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Updated: August 22, 2024
He spoke then, as if an illuminating thought had occurred to him. "You know Harrigan's record?" "No," she admitted grudgingly. McTee sighed as if with deep relief and leaned back in his chair. His smile was sympathetic and it altered his face so marvelously that she caught her breath. "Of course that explains it, Miss Malone. I don't doubt that he was clever enough to make you think him abused."
And even though their arch-leader in discontent had not crossed his path in many days he listened now to an echo of Harrigan's activities. "They're offering three a day in the Reserve camps." Fallon should not have gloated. "Three a day and a bonus for the high week cut. We're going back to the river." "I see," again observed Steve.
The pack in its southward drift had come in contact with Cape Harrigan's long projection of land, the wind had severed the pack, and, while the comparatively small section of floe upon which he stood had remained jammed against the land, the main floe, reaching far out beyond the obstruction of the cape, had been swept on and on, and was now floating steadily southward.
He called to Harrigan, and getting no answer shook him by the shoulder. He put his hand under Harrigan's chin and raised the listless head. It rolled heavily back and the dull eyes stared up at him. "God!" said the bos'n, and started back. The head remained where he had placed it, the eyes staring straight up at the ceiling. "God!" whispered the bos'n again, and ran from the forecastle.
To make good this promise, Campbell straightway sang for Harrigan's delectation two or three more of his favorite selections. It was evening, and the shift in the fireroom was ended before Harrigan left the engineer's room. On his way to the deck he passed the tired firemen from the hole of the ship.
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